And so we’re back in lovely Lanzhou.

The train journey home from Xi’an was certainly not the most comfortable, and 'survived' is probably a better verb to describe our experience than 'enjoyed'.

But we made it back in one piece, and thankfully without losing any luggage this time.

We arrived at a packed train station at around 9pm on Monday to find armed guards holding loudhailers stood on chairs in the waiting room trying to bring some order to the bedlam.

Once the gate for our train opened, however, chaos ensued as literally hundreds of people surged forward to reach their seats - a phenomenon I’ll never quite understand as all bookings are reserved on Chinese trains.

When we eventually found our seats, which did indeed live up to their ‘hard’ name, the carriage was sweltering as those with standing tickets had elected to take residence in our carriage also.

We received the usual stares and shy smiles from our fellow passengers but by this point we were used to it and frankly too tired to care.

However, just as I was drifting off, the train guard came charging at us, shouting in Chinese and waving his arms frantically.

He spent around five minutes bellowing at us and prodding me in the arm (I have a lovely black bruise to prove it) before seeing the look of terror in my eyes and softening.

It turns out that he simply wanted to find out our destination so that he could make sure we didn't miss our stop, although once again this was lost in translation.

When we awoke on Tuesday afternoon, we found the courtyard outside our apartment coated in a sheet of white snow, which we must have missed when we arrived back from Xi’an at around 5.30am.

The snow had the same weird powdery texture as that which we saw in Beijing, although it looked rather pitiful in comparison to the arctic conditions which had much of the UK at a standstill when we left Gatwick last month.

The cold spell came as something of a shock after the milder climates of Xi'an, but luckily didn’t ice over as that would have made for a very treacherous walk up the hill to the market.

Throughout the city, preparations for the Spring Festival are moving at full steam ahead, with paper lanterns and tigers adorning literally every street post.

Even hospitals get in on the act and are adorned with flashing lights, which I'm sure can't be good for the patients' blood pressure.

Still, it’s very beautiful, especially at night, and the warm glow of lanterns somehow manages to make even the ugliest concrete buildings (of which Lanzhou has many) look charming.

We’ve also been introduced to peanut milk by Blanche’s mum who is concerned we’re not eating enough.

As we still don’t have any gas, we warm up the sachets using water from the kettle, and have become quite proficient in making meals out of raw veg and the delicious steamed veg we buy from the Uighur stall by the school.

In other news, we’ve been informed that our return date has been pushed back to August 15 - the day after my birthday.

At first I was a little disappointed that I wouldn’t be home for it, but I guess turning 19 in a club in Beijing will definitely be memorable!

Also, I received a great link to a website detailing things to do and see in Lanzhou which was greatly needed as the city isn’t much of a tourist destination so most guides are pretty vague.

Thanks as well to Dale Haslam at the Bury Times for reproducing this diary on their website.

I’m going back to my Carol’s home tonight to celebrate the Spring Festival with her family.

She’s also told me that she hasn’t watched any more episodes of Prison Break since I left so it looks like we’re in for a Wentworth Miller marathon, which she’s very excited about.

I will write another update after the festival, throughout which I’m hoping to consume as few of the dreaded dumplings as possible!